


Softness Isn't Weakness (You're Stronger Than You Look, Foggy Nelson)

by danteaxel (tamikotheneko)



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Eating Disorders, Eventual Smut, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm, avocados in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-03 22:04:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4116460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamikotheneko/pseuds/danteaxel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Foggy hadn't indulged in this since college, but once he saw Matt broken and bloody, once he realized the lies he'd been fed and believed, once he'd felt his heart break with betrayal, he'd gone to the store and with unsteady hands he'd bought a package of razors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Worthless, He Thinks

**Author's Note:**

> Serious trigger warning for graphic depictions of self harm and later, binge/purge eating disorders. I really like hurting Foggy I'm sorry, but I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it. Daredevil doesn't belong to any of me nor do any of its characters. Also thanks and all my love to Cas, who got me into Daredevil in the first place and for co-writing this with me. They're the best and their writing helped me so much.

Some nights Foggy stays up until the sun rises, digging his nails into his palms and repeating the words worthless and useless and shaking with the hatred of it. Some nights Foggy loses his breath when his thoughts catch up, like a punch to the gut that says "You can't do anything. You're powerless. You're weak." and he believes it, God he knows he can't do shit, he knows he's only a burden, nothing to offer, weak pathetic worthlessuselessdamnwasteofspace. Some nights Foggy can't stand himself.

Most nights he starts out at Josie's, hoping the vodka (beer isn’t fast enough) will dull the sharp cut of his thoughts. It never does. Then when he stumbles home at 3 am with dried tear tracks on his soft cheeks, he curses everything. The uneven pavement making him trip, the couple across the street kissing on the sidewalk, his own hand shaking as he struggles with the key in the lock of his crappy apartment.

This time, Foggy doesn't bother to turn on the flickery incandescent light when he stumbles into the apartment, just feels his way to his room and drags his tired body into bed. He'd been at the bar since he left work and his stomach protests the lack of food. He’s used to skipping meals since adolescence when he began having nights like this, and when he found out about the Devil and his world on fire, he sometimes became too anxious to eat. However his body still hasn't stopped complaining at him when he does this to himself. Foggy honestly wishes it would stop. Can't he just ruin himself in peace? But he's learned to ignore his well-meaning body, so he just works his dress shirt and slacks off and throws them haphazardly across the room.

He doesn't pause to listen to the dull whump on his floor, instead shifting to feel around under the lumpy mattress to find a small box. Using the light from his window, he pops it open and examines the contents. Inside are a small roll of gauze, a thick package of medical tape, and two glistening razors, still sharp.

Foggy hasn't indulged in this since college, but once he saw Matt broken and bloody, once he realized the lies he'd been fed and believed, once he'd felt his heart break with betrayal, he'd gone to the store and with unsteady hands he'd bought a package of razors. He felt such shame in the daytime. Only wore short sleeves at home with Matt, who couldn't see the thin white scars crisscrossing his arms and the few twisted red and purple marks, some with stitch marks. Avoided any media with self harm references, was careful to not let Matt touch his bare arms because God knows he'd feel them, he'd feel every single one like it were a mountain and the look on his face would be more than Foggy could take.

But Matt isn’t here. He’s out probably getting beat to a pulp by gang members or something, not even thinking about Foggy. That's right, because you're not worth it. You weren't important enough to know the truth, you trusted him and he didn't trust you back because he knows the truth. That you're worthless. Worthless, worthless worthlessworthlessworthlessfuckyouyou'reworthlesspatheticuselessfuck- Foggy can't breathe now, all the words in his head stealing the air from his lungs, and he blindly scrambles for one of the razors, drags it across his arm hard and sharp and God it's so good It mutes the voice completely for a second and when it does return it's quieter, more manageable. 

He sucks in a desperate breath because the blood running freely from his arm freely isn't enough. This is going to be a bad one, he can tell already. Hand steadier, he aims this time for closer to the wrist. He knows his skin by heart, knows where to cut to get the most blood and the most release from his mind and all his damned emotion. Foggy takes the metal to his skin four more times and his head is becoming that kind of cottony he loves when a small noise outside his room brings his mind back into sharp, miserable focus.

Matt rolls in the window and lands on his feet gracefully before pulling off his mask. It had been a dull night for the crime fighting vigilante. Two robbers and a rapist were now dropped off in jail and the Hell’s Kitchen was a little safer tonight. He takes a deep breath, and that's when the scent of blood hits his nose with the force of a train. He immediately put on the mask again and runs to Foggy’s bedroom, expecting there to be an intruder as he crashed through the door, positioning himself in a fighting stance. A gasp comes from the bed, and once ascertaining that there aren't any intruders coming to steal his partner away, Matt hurries over to his friend. "Foggy? What’s wrong? I smelled your blood when I came in, are you hurt?"

Foggy sucks in a breath. Of course this is happening. Of fucking course it is.   
"Yeah, yeah Matty, 'm fine," despite his best efforts he slurs a little, and only then does he realize how much blood he's lost. His heart rate spikes as much from that as the lie, and he curses himself. Matt was never falling for that. "Are you okay? why are you here at God knows when in the morning?" He stalls for time while fumbling to slip the damning evidence under his pillow, before remembering Matt couldn't tell it was there unless he came to the bed. "There's no blood, Matty. I slipped and nicked myself while making dinner is all." He winced. That was a terrible excuse and he knows it. The smells are all wrong, even he can smell too much alcohol and not enough food. And blood, God so much blood everywhere, he’s fucking screwed. This is it. He's fucked up for good, this time. Foggy is fighting back tears by this point, lamely praying to whoever will listen to let Matt believe him and just leave.

Matt lets himself entertain the idea of knocking Foggy out and dragging him to a hospital, but the Catholic in him says that with all the other shit he does, he can't Hail Mary himself out of that. Instead Matt plays along with the story and forces out a laugh, "Yeah Fogs, had me worried there for a minute." Foggy, blood loss and all, starts to relax and continues to brush it off, hoping Matt will just leave. Suddenly a strong hand grabs the arm that isn't bleeding and pins it to the bed. Matt swings up to straddle Foggy’s waist, holding him down, and feels around for the gauze he knows that Foggy must have. Truthfully, Matt knows that Foggy has been doing this to himself since college, and on the mornings after Matt had always made sure to smile more, to be gentler with his friend, and to try his damndest to make foggy laugh as much as he could. Even if it meant getting drunk off his ass and singing karaoke at a nightclub.

For a few moments, Foggy is unable to formulate a reaction. "Matt?" He finally manages, wincing as his voice comes out far more strangled and small than he'd intended. Way to go, idiot, he tells himself, that won’t help Matt believe that you're okay. Dumbass. Fucking stupid, good for nothing, piece of shit, burden, waste of space fuckfuck so fucking worthless- and Foggy releases a choked, dry sob. He gives up then, crumples like a paper version of himself and tells himself he can just say goodbye to his last chance of getting Matt back, getting back that silly puppydog smile that makes him feel like he's not living pointlessly because look what he can do, he can make the sun shine and all he has to do is tell his best friend a joke. Who is he kidding, he's losing the love of his life, has probably already lost him and there's nothing he can do. Foggy shivers under Matt's strong grip and does his best to keep his tears silent.

Matt is both happy and incredibly sad. Happy because he can finally, finally help his partner, and sad because after all this time, Foggy is still hurting himself. As Foggy cries below him, Matt wraps gauze tightly around the still bleeding arm and tapes it with steady hands, making a note to text Claire later and have her examine the cuts. For now, he lets Foggy go and rolls off him, only to gather his friend into his arms and stroke his hair. After a moment of quiet broken only by sobs, he begins whispering soothing, nonsensical things and presses Foggy close to his chest.

Foggy lets himself cry for a few more seconds, enjoying the hollowness of his chest and the comfort of Matt's low voice, before he remembers what it usually means when Matt shows up in the middle of the night. He hardens his jaw and wills himself to stop crying. Remember, you're not the priority. He thought. You're nothing. He's everything. You don't even deserve to be taking this help, selfish bastard. He takes a shaky breath and pushes away from Matt.

"I'm fine, really. Not even an issue." He pauses, because the room is spinning and Matt looks so inviting and warm and it takes all of Foggy's strength to remind himself that he's been worse, and that Matt doesn't need him breaking down disgustingly all over him. "What about you, are you okay? Need patching up?" He sniffles once more and that’s it, he feels it all seal away and he’s back to his regular self. Good ol' funny Foggy with not a care in the world other than taking care of Matt.  
“Foggy, I’m perfectly fine. You on the other hand.." Matt trails off before pushing Foggy back to lie down on the bed. "I’m going to go get something for you to eat and drink okay? You lost a lot of blood and you need to replenish nutrients." Foggy starts to protest, but Matt firmly pushes him down on the bed with one hand and sighs, softening his tone to the one he knows always makes Foggy listen to him. "Please.. let me take care of you now." Without waiting for Foggy’s answer, Matt strides into the other room and heads towards the kitchen. He quickly gathers an apple, some Gatorade, and a handful of almonds from the jar by the sink with the practiced efficiency that came with knowing a place by heart. Matt reflects that anyone else would probably be freaking out right now, and on the inside, even he is a bit shaken up, but he knows that his friend needs help, and damn if Matt Murdock isn't going to do everything in his power to help.

Foggy lies in shock on blood dappled sheets. Unless he’s escaping through the window again, Matt isn't gone. He’s even concerned. He pushes away the voice in the back of his head saying that Matt is pitying him, it’s his Catholic guilt, he just doesn't want to be saddled with the blame if Foggy bleeds out- that voice had been wrong last time, couldn't it be wrong again? He hopes so. Exhaustion overwhelms him as he hears Matt's light footsteps returning. Returning. God, it isn't the end. He can still get Matt back. Foggy lets his muscles relax and his breath whoosh out, eyes closing until he looks eerily dead and feels like it too. All his energy and will to fight whatever happens next has been spent. Almost as if reading Foggy’s mind, Matt sat down on the bed next to him and started to cut up the apple.

"Before you go off and think that this is my Catholic guilt or something equally silly, firstly, the things I do at night are slowly getting rid of that, and secondly, I care about you, Fogs. I honestly don't know what I would do without you. If you ever left, I’d be a wreck. I wouldn't have anyone to come home to.." He hands Foggy a piece of apple and smiles slightly "Besides, singular avocado at law doesn't sound as good."  
Foggy bites into the apple slice, and he isn't sure if it was Matt's words or his blood loss or a combination of both but it’s the best damn apple he's ever eaten. He eagerly shoves the rest of the slice into his mouth and makes a tired little sound of contentment in the back of his throat. Swallowing, Foggy considers his next words.

"No, but I almost think Karen is learning quick enough to be your avocado." He frowns when that sounds less funny and more depressing than he meant. As much as he knows Matt is going to make him be serious later, he can't help but try to lighten the mood. "I mean. Matt, you'd get on fine. I'm not going anywhere, anyway. Don't make this out to be more than it is."

Matt huffs out a laugh. "Karen is an interesting person, but no one can replace my original avocado. And I would not get on fine. You make sure I eat when we're on a case, you remind me to take it easy, you’re a shoulder on days when I just want to throw this whole vigilante business out the window. Foggy, you’re irreplaceable and I don't want to hear another word about how you think you’re of such little worth. Now eat some more apple." Matt hands another slice to Foggy and smiles at him gently. "Right now we'll focus on having you replenished and re-hydrated, then you can sleep, and in the morning we'll talk more. I’m staying the night too."  
Unwilling and unable to argue, Foggy simply takes the apple slice and wolfs it down before replying, 

"...Okay, Matty." Looking around, he realizes how much blood is everywhere, and how much of a mess he must seem. "Hey, Matt," he tries and fails to hide a tremor in his voice, "I know there's blood on the sheets and all but neither of us are exactly the right people to be changing sheets, so... If we just pull them off... would you mind staying here with me tonight?" Foggy holds his breath. He hates how his room looks in the dark in the best times, and tonight the thought of facing it alone- even with Matt just a room away- honestly terrifies him more than he will ever admit. Every shadow seems to shriek at him that he’s being selfish, that he isn't worth this and he shouldn't have promised Matt he wasn't going anywhere. Matt smiles at his friend’s compliance, and decides that humor is his best friend in this situation. 

"Wanting a sleepover with me that badly huh?"

Foggy breaks out in a silly grin, relishing the normalcy Matt's joke lends to the night.

"Oh yeah, with pillow fights and truth or dare and everything," he retaliates. Maybe things aren't so irreparable after all, he thinks to himself. Maybe Matt can know and things don't have to change. Maybe he hasn't royally fucked up their friendship, he prays. Reaching out with his unbandaged arm, Foggy rests a hand on Matt's strong forearm. "Please?" he says more earnestly. When he receives that sunny smile in return, the world seems a little less broken, and so does Foggy.


	2. Weak, He Thinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and famous pancakes. Also, some serious soul-baring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems we just can't stop writing Foggy in pain. Oops?

The next morning, Foggy wakes with a hangover he's sure is strong enough to take down an elephant. Groaning audibly, he rolls over and freezes to find Matt laying in a shirt he must have borrowed from Foggy and his boxers. As last night's events come back to him, he groans audibly and curses himself through gritted teeth. He feels throbbing through his whole body, centralized in his arm. Gauze is taped expertly to the injuries, obviously done by Matt himself, and Foggy can't help but smile a little fondly before squeezing his eyes closed and praying silently that this morning won't be weirder than it has to be. He really doesn't want to see Matt's face when they have this talk. For once, Foggy wishes to switch places and be blind instead and let Matt see, so he doesn't have to ask and Foggy doesn't have to sit there and watch himself hurt someone he loves more than he has already.

Matt waits a moment until Foggy’s heartbeat comes down to normal before pretending to wake up with a cat like stretch and a yawn turned groan. He intends to make this conversation as easy and quick as possible to spare Foggy the discomfort, but that doesn't mean he doesn't fully intend to make Foggy tell him every single thing that makes him feel bad, so Matt can fix it. He will fix it. With determination on his mind and a content smile on his lips, Matt snuggles closer to Foggy in search of warmth and a good start to an otherwise hard upcoming day.

“Morning ye foul drunkard."

Foggy lets out a relieved and easy laugh. "How dare you! I am an upstanding- oh fuck, the sun. Since when is that so damn bright?" He covers his eyes with one hand and scratches his side with the other. "I'm injured by that, Matty." Foggy is unwilling to admit how much he enjoys waking up with Matt beside him like this. It's comfortable, he thinks. He has to pause to remind himself he doesn't deserve Matt, reign himself in a little, before he lets out a huge yawn and punches his friend playfully in the shoulder.

Matt winces theatrically and sweeps a hand across the room 

"My dear Foggy, hast thou forgotten that the sun is literally a flaming ball of fire in the sky." Matt ends the last of the sentence with thinly veiled sarcasm and flops down on top of Foggy in retaliation for the punch, and also because he can sense something dark in his friend.

"Oof, you're smashing me Matt! Soon I'll be nothing but a Foggy shaped spot on my bed. Get off, you jerk," he pushes at Matt to no avail. The man was not moving unless he chose. "If you get up I'll make you breakfast," he wheedles. "See, I have actual food in my house. I could make you eggs or pancakes or the fan favorite, cereal that isn’t stale." prodding Matt's ribs, he wonders if Matt will want to stay or if he'll be too uncomfortable once the elephant in the room is brought up and want to get out of the apartment.

Matt raises his head quickly and without hesitation says,

"Franklin Foggy Nelson, if you make me pancakes, I promise I won’t put on the mask for three days... unless something important comes up." They both know that’s bullshit, Matt just wants pancakes and for Foggy to laugh. He’s never going to stick to that promise. Still, Foggy agrees and rolls a finally pliant Matt off him. 

"Chocolate or blueberry or regular? Actually fuck it, I'm making some of all of them. If you get me something to drink." Standing, he immediately rolls a pair of sweatpants on because even if Matt can't really see him it doesn't mean he feels okay traipsing around in boxers and a tee shirt like that gorgeous man is right now.

Matt drapes himself across Foggy’s back, wanting to be extra affectionate today. He figures Foggy needs it.

"For your famous pancakes, I would climb Mount Everest and bring you back water from the top of the mountain." after that profound statement, Matt slinks off of his friend’s back and strides smoothly to the kitchen, filling a glass with the finest: tap water. He hands it to Foggy before sitting down at the kitchenette.

With a small smile, Foggy thanks Matt for the water and sets to work retrieving all the ingredients for the pancakes. The familiar actions make him almost forget his killer hangover and the discomfort to come. When he's drained the glass of water plus a refill and the pancakes are safely on the stovetop, filling the apartment with an amazing smell, he turns to rest his hip on the counter and look at his friend. Silence reigns, and he could probably cut the tension with the spatula he's got a death grip on.

"...So." Foggy decides he'd rather get it over with.

Matt feigns ignorance and leans on the counter. "So?"

Sighing deeply so Matt knows for sure he doesn't buy the act, Foggy presses his lips together and continues hesitantly. "So, this thing. My thing. You said you were gonna talk about it this morning. What is there to say, Matt? What do you need me to say?" Foggy wants so badly to escape, to jump out the window and go down the fire escape, make a break for it, even burn the pancakes and set his entire apartment on fire and go down in flames. He figures he's doing a good enough job of the whole flames thing right now, with this talk.

Matt smirks slightly. "Well until you put down that lethal spatula, I'm staying silent as a mouse."

Rolling his eyes, Foggy sets it on the counter beside him.

"Better, mousie?" He teases while his stomach ties itself in knots around small kernels of thoughts. it'll be fine-you're gonna lose him-he'll be understanding it's gonna be okay-he's going to hate you you're so weak they say.  
Matt nods with a soft smile. 

"I may not be a mind reader Fogs, but I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that this is going to drive me away, that I wont be able to take it. But Foggy, I’ve known since college. I wasn't able to do anything about it back then because I couldn't make myself sit you down and say 'hey Fogs, I smelled your blood last night, we should talk about your self harming tendencies.' But then it stopped happening as we got closer to graduation and though I always worried, I let my guard down too much. I didn’t even notice when it started happening again. I’m so sorry for that Foggy. I’m sorry I didn't notice sooner. I didn’t realize. So please-" Here, Matt pauses and lifts his face to let Foggy see him straight on, "Tell me what happened."

Foggy is in shock.

"Wait. Wait, hold up. In a minute. Just let me process that you knew since college. That's years Matt, and you never said anything? You could have switched roommates or something, God I can't believe you knew all that time and you put up with it." Somewhere in his mind Foggy knows this is the wrong reaction, but he can't process the idea that Matt had always known and had never been disgusted the way he was. He didn't push him away the way Marci had for a while when she first found out. He had cared.

"Foggy, you became my best friend in the first ten seconds that we met. I wasn't going to switch rooms with you just because of some damn blood. Besides, the scent of all that junk food covered it up pretty well." Matt laughs slightly and reaches to place his hands over Foggy’s. "Fogs, believe it or not, I’m not gonna run away from something like this. Now if you were murdering people, that would be a different story." Matt motions for Foggy to come closer, and when his friend complies, he whispers "also, the pancakes are about to burn"

Foggy jumps and rushes to plate up the pancakes because Matt is right as always. He stacks several on a plate and pushes them to his friend, but he chucks the fork moments later. As expected, Matt catches it no problem. 

"I mean," He says around a bite of chocolate chip pancake, "I just. Never imagined you'd want to deal with me like that. Because I'm, you know. A mess. Weak. etcetera. Believe me I could go on."

Matt moans appreciatively around the forkful of pancake in his mouth and then waves the fork in Foggy’s general direction. 

"Weak is never a word I would use to describe you. A mess is what I use to describe myself primarily. But never you." Matt cocks his head with a fond smile. "Besides, self harming is a common issue for people. I did it for a few months after my dad died, actually."

Sucking in a deep breath, Foggy whispers,  
"Really?" He'd always pictured Matt to be this shining beacon of strength and while he still did, he couldn't reconcile brave, courageous Matt with his vision of himself huddled in the dark with a razor, sobbing uncontrollably and being ruined by nothing more than his thoughts. "I didn't know. I- I know it's common. But I should be above that, in my mind. You know? I'm a grown up, I'm a lawyer even, I shouldn't be pathetic. Yet here we are." Cutting Matt's next words off, he said in a hard voice, "And don't sit there and try to hold my hand and tell me I'm not pathetic or something because I know well enough that I am."

Matt sighs and stands up, an air of danger suddenly materializing. 

"Foggy. I’d rather not yell at you to get my point across. If you were pathetic you wouldn't be my partner." Matt takes a step towards Foggy. "If you were weak you wouldn't be able to take on so much stress and not completely break down like most lawyers." Matt takes another step "If you were anything but the strongest and most tender person I know, then I wouldn't have chosen to open up, and continue to keep, a clientless firm with you." Matt is almost nose to nose with Foggy at this point "Also, I wouldn't have drunk an eel at 3 am at Josie’s on a Tuesday when we had work in the morning, not once, not twice, but on multiple, regretful occasions."

Foggy's jaw clenches. "I never asked for that from you, Matt. If you want to tell me lies to my face go ahead, but it's not going to change what everyone knows about me. I'm fucking weak, Matt." He nearly spits the words, refusing to back down. "I never asked for you to put up with me. No one ever said you had to do that shit, and if you don't want to then you don't have to because you know it won't change ANYTHING."

Matt growls, the sound vibrating low in his throat. "Foggy I swear to God you just-" Matt cut himself off and ran a hand over his face. "Fogs. I know you never asked for any of that. I did it because I wanted to, and because you’re my best friend okay? I don't know where you got this notion that you’re weak, but it’s not true."

Foggy's brow creases. 

"Matt. please, I know you don't get it, but you haven't seen me on bad nights. You haven't heard my thoughts. It's fucking weak of me, to be wrecked by nothing more than my own head. I can't even control it. I'm losing to my own mind, Matt. That's weakness if I've ever seen it." Part of Foggy hoped they would fight so Matt would just leave him already. The look on his friend's face was already paining him, and this was surely only the beginning.

"Fighting against your own mind is the strongest thing a person can do."

"And I'm losing, Matt. I can't even begin to tell you how many times my head has won, because i'm too damn pathetic to fight it. I give in, Matty. I lose and I can't begin to tell you how pathetic I feel. Especially next to someone like you."  
Matt couldn't stand the look on Foggy’s face and just lunged forward and hugged Foggy tightly and whispered fiercely in his ear. 

"Please don't ever think that because of what I do, that I’m strong. and I’m begging you, Foggy.. please I’m begging you, come to me, anytime of the day or night when you’re losing. Please… please Foggy." Matt was so desperate to help his friend.  
He feels Foggy melting into the hug and gripping him like a lifeline. 

"I-I'll try," he mumbles around barely held in tears. "I mean, Matt, you can't understand what goes on in my head yet. It's really ugly. I'm ugly. Tears and hyperventilating and the whole shebang, you know. I can't even promise I'll be willing to come to you, when it happens. I hate how I get, and I know I won’t want you to see me like that. But I can try, Matt. Is that good enough?"

Matt sighs in relief and presses his lips to Foggy’s forehead in a kiss.

“Thank you.”

Foggy closes his eyes and nods. "I don't get it. But if you insist on sticking with this, I'm in no place to complain. It’ll be nice to finally have somebody."

Matt’s relief is almost palpable as he murmurs out "You know me, I’m stubborn as hell. You’re stuck with me, Nelson."

A small chuckle escapes Foggy's lips.

"Good, I think I can live with that."

Matt can't help but press another kiss into his friend’s forehead.

A blush makes its way from the tips of Foggy's ears all the way to his toes against his will. He hopes Matt won't say anything.


	3. Alone, He Thinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foggy's next bad night is interrupted by more apples and an unexpected storytime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for implied/referenced self harm. The sads are back and in full force. Sorry not sorry guys.

Within days of the last incident, Foggy has another bad night. He walks home with Matt after work, so this evening he’s miserably sober when darkness hits the apartment and his heart drops to his toes. Matt is already dozing on the couch, greasy takeout making him adorably sleepy. All the old familiar words, pathetic, worthless, weak, beat a rhythm that Foggy's heart races to match. Willing his heart to keep quiet so Matt won't wake up and see him in this state, he fumbles for the small box beneath his lumpy mattress again.

Matt feels more than hears Foggy’s heart spike and he sits up with a sleepy yawn. He knows heart rates can go up for many reasons. He can’t know what Foggy is doing right now, but he stumbles up off the couch with quiet footfalls just in case.

Foggy takes another shuddering breath and pops the lid of the little box open, not pausing to examine the contents like he usually does before grabbing for a razor. He's pretty sure he nicks his finger on the corner, but he doesn't stop to examine the possible injury. Instead he positions the razor along one of the only spots on his arm without preexisting scar tissue, and steels himself for the sting. Worth it for the release, he tells himself.

Matt suddenly smells blood in the air and picked up his pace, once again crashing through the door into Foggy’s room, rushing to the bed and knocking the razor out of his hand before gathering his friend into his arms with a strong, fierce grip.

"Foggy," Matt sighs out while pressing closer to his friend, feeling him tremble under his arm.

Shaking like a leaf, Foggy allows Matt to hold him.

"'M sorry-" he chokes out between shallow sobs. "Didn't mean to. To wake you."

Matt shushes him with a comforting kiss on his forehead and a hushed, 

"I was half awake bear, its okay.." Foggy almost laughed at the use of the old nickname, given to him in college.

"Duck..." he mumbles into Matt's shirt. Without bidding, memories of all the times he's been selfish with Matt since they first met in college rush to the forefront of his mind. He crumples like he's been kicked and pushes weakly at Matt's chest in a feeble attempt to get his friend to release him. He doesn’t want to make Matt deal with this, He has a clear vision of what he must look like, and he’s disgusted by it. 

Matt just held Foggy closer and a quiet laugh rumbled in his chest 

"I haven't heard that name since college Fogs.. hoped you’d forgotten about it.."

"Never," Foggy gives a cracked smile but lets it fade away as he continues to push. "let GO, Matt. Go 'way."

Matt frowned, “I’ll let you go, but I won’t go away."

Foggy sighs heavily. 

“I said go away, Matt. just leave me alone. Don't want you here."

“And I said no. you really want to fight this, bear?"

"Yes. Go away. Why are you so insistent on staying? Fuck you. Leave me alone."

Foggy's mind races and he closes his eyes tight, hoping Matt will get the clue. He hates that his friend is seeing him in this state. His chest is burning with shame; he’s supposed to be funny and silly and loveable and fine. He should be fine, the rock for his friends, always ready with a joke and a hug. He can’t be weak like this. Especially not in front of Matt. Matt can’t know this part of him. He can’t.

Matt’s mind reels. Foggy has told him to fuck off before, but never in a serious manner. He honestly has no clue what to do. So he steels himself and says firmly, 

"Foggy, I am going to leave this room for five minutes to get you a glass of water and an apple. When I get back, We're going to talk about meaningless shit. Joke around and be silly because that's what you need right now I think. Understand?"

Foggy finally breaks free of Matt's grip and flops down, pulling his blanket over himself in a manner that he is reluctant to admit is very childish. 

"Whatever, Matt. Just go away."

He is vaguely aware that he's being terrible to Matt, that his friend doesn't deserve this kind of treatment, but at this moment he really doesn't care as long as Matt goes away so he can collect himself and then they don't have to deal with this.  
Matt wants to laugh at Foggy’s childish actions but instead repeats - in his daredevil voice no less- 

"Do you understand me?"

Poking his nose out of the sheets, he mumbles, 

"Fine." 

He really doesn't want Matt to come back. He wants to be left alone, to just wallow. He wishes he'd been able to finish cutting. As it is, all the damn emotion is still bubbling under his skin, driving him crazy.

Matt walks out of the room, his feet seeming to echo on the floors as he pours Foggy a glass of water and busies himself with cutting an apple. Back when his dad had died and before Stick had found him, he had cut all the time, just so he could focus all his senses on the feel of a razor blade across his wrists. He had needed that moment of peace and quiet. Matt knows the emotions going through Foggy’s head, and knows that it’s all too easy to just ignore the help and mischaracterize attempts at help, but damn if he isn’t going to try.

From under the covers, Foggy listens to Matt moving around his kitchen. The sounds remind him of when he was young and he had nightmares, when his mother would come in and give him a glass of milk and a treat from the kitchen. She used to talk to him with one hand running over his head until he fell asleep; the memories have a calming effect on Foggy and his breathing begins to steady, something he's sure Matt can hear from the kitchen.

Of course, he does hear Foggy’s breathing calm. He’s been waiting for that to return, so he pads his way back into the room, the cut up apple on a plate and a cup of tea and a glass of water juggled in his hands.

Foggy tugs the blankets tighter around him and feels all the fight drains out of him. He can still feel the panic and awful thoughts in his mind, but they are more quiet, like waves beating on a distant shore. He can manage this. Foggy is suddenly exhausted and all he wants is to be comforted. And some of that apple. He's barely eaten today.

Matt lays down next to Foggy and leans against the headboard, holding a slice of apple in front of the opening of covers where he knows his friend is hiding.

"Come on out, bear, I know apples are your favorite."

Foggy gives up on the whole making Matt go away thing. If he's going to provide comfort, may as well take it. He wiggles his way out of the sheets and curls against Matt, half asleep already. He snatches the apple slice and devours it in one bite, then quietly says, 

"Sorry for being an asshole."

Matt only hums quietly and pets Foggy’s hair in a strangely , feeding him apple slices and singing a church hymn under his breath.

Foggy tugs on Matt's shirt. 

"Hey. Hey. I know this sounds dumb. But can you tell me a story?" He knows exactly how weak it sounds the second it’s out of his mouth, he hates himself for it, but there it is floating in the air between them.

Matt smiles, just glad Foggy has asked for something.

"Of course I can. A story about what?"

"Anything. something happy."

“How about a story about a duck and a bear?"

Foggy nods fiercely, "Yes please, Matty."

Matt rubs the back of his neck self consciously.

"Well uh.. I’m not great with stories but... so once upon a time there was a bear... and his name was.. uhm... Figgy, yeah Figgy. He was in a lot of trouble, because his paw had gotten caught in a thorn bush, and he had pulled it out too quickly and gotten thorns all stuck in his paw. And one day a duck came along named... fuck, uhm... oh, Mett! Yeah, so Mett the duck came along and saw that the Figgy the bear was hurt, so Mett decided to help the bear by getting the thorns out. but Figgy was stubborn and wouldn't accept help from Mett because he was an obstinate asshole who didn't like to trouble other people- I mean animals, sorry. but Mett was really persistent and finally Figgy gave in. He let Mett the duck pick out all the thorns with his beak and then they lived happily ever after in their cave together and ate a lot of apples."

Foggy's laugh is anemic, but at least it's there. 

"Thank you, Matt. Or I can call you Mett if you'd prefer." The fact that he's joking means he's feeling immensely better, and he drains the glass of water quickly followed by the now cooled tea. "Sleep now."

Matt cocks his head, "Are you sure?"

Foggy nods.

"Why? Do you wanna talk about it or something?"

Matt shakes his head.

"No, I was just checking. Mind if I sleep with you?"

"Please." 

Foggy tugs Matt closer, pressing his head into the curve of his neck. As he feels himself drifting, he mumbles "Thanks Matty. L' y..." into his friend’s neck. He's not sure what he meant to say.

Matt stills for a moment before relaxing and laying his head tentatively on Foggy’s own. 

"Night, Fogs..."


	4. Pointless, He Thinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intense emotion all around as our avocados find themselves in a serious fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of anger in this one guys. sort of sorry? not really, the avocados needed this.
> 
> Update 6/15/15- We are posting a oneshot for MattFoggy later today after ARealHorrorShow edits it. Be on the lookout!!!

Foggy wakes late the next morning to cereal and Matt and the tight pressure in his skin that he recognizes all too well. He fell asleep last night before he managed to get anything more than a nasty cut on his finger from grasping the razor wrong, and now he longs for the dulling of his senses, the numbness and relief. While he dresses and Matt eats his cereal in the kitchen, he tucks the box from his mattress into his pants pocket. He’s done this plenty of times before. He’ll simply volunteer to go out and pick up lunch today and finally find the privacy to cut while he’s out.

 

Matt senses that while Foggy’s in a better mood, he’s still troubled. As he eats his cereal, he  hums one of the church hymns he knows Foggy’s fond of just loudly enough for his friend to hear.

 

Smiling softly when he hears the tune, Foggy ruffles Matt's hair as he passes to eat breakfast in a hurry. 

 

"Karen's gonna have our asses if we're late again today," He says through a mouthful of Lucky Charms.

 

Matt stifles a happy whimper when Foggy ruffles his hair. His friend has no idea that he loves having his hair played with- well, one knows really, but whenever Foggy does it, Matt is always in a better mood. That much is obvious.

 

"Karen does know how to kick some serious ass."

 

"Yeah, and I'm not in the mood to get my cute Irish ass kicked. You gonna be ready to go in a sec?"

 

Matt hums in response. 

 

"Is my hair alright, oh great Irishman?"

 

"Hmm. No. Let me fix it." 

 

Without waiting for the response, he sets his cereal bowl down and leans forward to run both hands through Matt's hair, scratching his friend's scalp and messing up his hair as much as he can.

 

Matt almost yelps with surprise but melts into the feeling of fingers running through his hair. he knows Foggy is messing up his hair drastically, but he really can't bring himself to care much about it.

 

"A liiiiiiiittle bit more..." Foggy grins and continues to rub his fingers through Matt's hair, completely aware of how much it’s being enjoyed. He loves that after all he has bothered Matt with over the past few days, he can make his friend relax. “Perfect." He steps back to examine his handiwork and stifles a laugh. Matt looks like he just fought an angry pretentious hairdresser in a hurricane and lost.

 

Matt knows he looks ridiculous. He just sighs in resignation with a small smirk.

"Are you satisfied, bear?"

 

"Yes indeed, duck. Now," He checks his watch, "We really gotta get to work." Foggy strides to the door and holds it open, leaning against it to smile at Matt's ridiculous hair.

 

Matt runs his hands through his hair, smoothing it out as he walks past Foggy with a muttered,

 

"Jerk."

 

Foggy follows, pushing his hand through Matt's hair one last time. 

 

"You know you love me, Murdock. Who else will buy your favorite Vietnamese for lunch today? Karen sure won't if we're late."

 

“If you buy me Vietnamese, I will weep tears of joy, Foggy Nelson.”

 

"Aww don't cry, duck. I'll even get a double order of egg rolls."

 

"....and shrimp fried rice?'

 

"As many boxes as I can afford."

 

Matt grins, "I’m going to marry you someday if you’re not careful."

 

"You know me, I'm a reckless man." Foggy grins at the side of Matt's head. 

 

\---

  
  


Foggy counts the minutes to lunch. He is sure he seems off, but he really doesn't care. When the clock strikes twelve, he nearly leaps out of his chair and takes orders for Vietnamese. His mind is racing as he hurries to the downstairs bathroom and pries open the small box from his pocket.

 

"What. What?”

 

Foggy searches his pocket for the razors that are now missing from his box. "Fucking- Matt." He’s overcome with anger and panic. "Fuck. Fuck. Oh god."

 

Matt hears Foggy’s heart rate leap up and can almost smell his anger from his office. This isn't going to be fun, he knows.

 

Foggy takes the stairs two at a time back up to the office. He slams the door back open and storms over to Matt's office. 

 

"What the fuck, Murdock. There's this thing called a line, you know."

 

“The lines across your wrists quickly got rid of any other lines in my life, Nelson." Matt retorts.

 

Foggy's fingernails dig into his palms. It’s obvious that Matt’s more collected than he is. His partner’s more eloquent at the best of times, and now that he’s panicking he knows Matt will not be easy to argue.

 

"I don't intrude on your life threatening activity more than I have to. Why is it different for you, huh?" 

 

He vaguely knows his voice is too loud, Karen is probably going to be there soon and he doesn't care.

 

Matt’s glasses glint as he holds his chin high.

 

"The difference, Franklin Nelson, is that I don't have suicidal tendencies."

 

Bullshit, anyone who does what you do must have at least a few tendencies.  Foggy thinks, but doesn’t say. He doesn’t want to go off on a tangent. That’s for later. 

 

Right now he wants nothing more than to punch something. He is shaking, panicked over the loss of his razors. 

 

"I can't believe you, Murdock. I just." He bites the inside of his cheek. "Fuck you, Murdock. You can't just invade people's privacy and get into their stuff."

 

“You invaded my privacy and looked through my Daredevil stuff"

 

Foggy sputters, "Well. I feel like cutting and fucking vigilante activity are  just a little different ."

 

Matt laughs darkly.

 

"You’re right. Doesn't mean I’m giving you back your razors."

 

"Fine. You know I can just buy more. I'm a big boy, Matty. You can't force shit like that, asshole."

 

Matt stands languidly, almost reminding Foggy of something from a nightmare.

 

"Can’t I?"

 

"Oh come on, Matt. Don't act like you're going to beat me up or something. It's cool that you're trying to care or whatever but  God  you're not helping at all you complete dick."

 

Matt loathes yelling. He can't stand when people give up on polite conversation and instead just yell at each other but he’s losing his legendarily upstanding patience with his friend. 

 

“Let it go, Foggy. this will help in the long run."

 

"Fucking how, Matt? Honestly I don't see how this was at all beneficial." 

 

Foggy can feel his eyes prickling and he's starting to really dislike the fact that he's an angry crier. His heart won't slow down. "What. I just.. Why??" His breath is beginning to come shallow and fragmented, his muscles are jumping, his eyes won't even focus. He really doesn't want to break down in the middle of his office, but he knows he's headed that way.

 

Matt’s posture softens. 

 

"Please, Foggy. I want you to stop cutting and the first way to do that is to take the things that you use to cut."

 

Foggy's voice has lowered and he can feel Karen hovering. He knows she won't interfere unless it looks like it's gonna get worse again. She's cool like that. 

 

"Matt. You just. I can't just let it stop like that. I've tried. Believe me this is  so much better than the alternative."

 

Matt’s voice is dangerously low, how it usually gets when he was about to lose his patience. 

 

"Then I’ll stay with you, Foggy. I can help and so can Claire."

 

"Yeah, yeah, I appreciate your effort Matt. You just can't go about it like this. I need this like you need to go out and beat people up as penance or whatever."

 

Matt swears under his breath. 

 

"Foggy, how many times do I have to tell you it’s not as penance."

 

"Not the point, Matt. I just need this okay? Why can't you just shut the fuck up and let it go?" 

 

All Foggy wants is for this to be over. He's angry and scared and GOD he wishes this weren't happening.

 

Matt’s head whips up. 

 

" What did you just say to me?"

 

Foggy knows he's made a mistake judging from Matt's reaction, but he can't bring himself to backtrack. Honestly he half hopes it will drive his friend away and this can just end already.

 

"I said, just shut the fuck up and let it go. I'm an adult, Matt, I don't need my best friend telling me I'm not allowed to do something when it  isn’t even his business . It's my private business."

 

"Franklin Nelson, you did  not just tell me  twice  to shut the fuck up" 

 

Matt stalks towards Foggy slowly, anger coursing through him.

 

Foggy has given up, he's crying in the doorway of Matt's office and he's absolutely sure he's just fucked up royally and he can't bring himself to care. 

 

"Whatever, Matt. You know I did, you can hear better than anyone I know. Beat me up or something. You won't listen to me so whatever you want."

 

Matt knows his friend is hurting, but dammit he’s angry as hell and he refuses to back down. He will  not just let this whole situation go.

 

"Foggy you need to actually FUCKING CARE about this whole situation! Do you even WANT to get better, or are you just going to fucking give up?!"

 

Foggy shrugs. 

 

"Maybe I do give up, Matt. What's the point of getting ‘better’? Maybe I just give up. What do you do then?" He runs his hand through his long hair and leans back against the doorway.

 

Matt growls in frustration and punches the nearest inanimate object- the filing cabinet- so hard the metal dents.

 

"FINE. IF YOU’RE NOT GOING TO FUCKING CARE, THEN WHY SHOULD I." 

 

He storms out of the office and slams the door behind him, rushing down the stairs and heading to the safety of his apartment where he can meditate and calm down. He can’t remember the last time he was this angry at his best friend.

 

Foggy gazes blankly at the dent in the filing cabinet, only slightly aware that Karen has come up behind him. His legs are jelly and he can’t breathe. 

 

"Hey," Karen murmurs to him, "You know he does care, right? we both do." 

 

She rubs his back and even though he knows she doesn't know exactly what’s going on, Foggy is immensely grateful. 

 

"Who even cares," he whispers. "He has every right to not care anymore. I'm the one who made him upset."

 

Karen shook her head softly. 

 

"No Foggy, I think he’s mad at himself that he can’t do more to help you with whatever it is you’re going through. Matt just needs some time to himself to get centered, and so do you. Why don't you come out with me tonight, huh? We can go to Josie’s and drink eels together."

 

Foggy nods slightly. 

 

"Sure, Karen. Eels at Josie's. Thanks." 

  
He smiles wanly at her, already looking forward to the evening bringing the numbness he's been needing. He'll talk to Matt tomorrow, he tells himself.


	5. He Doesn't Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Foggy take separate paths through the next few days, and their respective benders end in the worst way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in the chapters! Cas had some personal circumstances that meant we had to take a break but here we are back again and angstier than ever! warnings for heavy alcohol use, minor character death, self harm (implied and more direct) and foggy not taking good care of himself at all. Enjoy, guys! Sorry it's short, promise we'll make up for it with emotions and all that jazz next chapter

Foggy does indeed drink himself into a drunken stupor that evening with Karen. He turns down the offer for pizza beforehand, for many reasons. He isn't really that hungry, the anxiety is making a knot in his stomach which leaves no room for food, he doesn't feel like being nice to his body right about now; but he tells Karen none of these. Instead he simply vetoes the idea and goes back to his apartment to start on his buzz early with a few beers. Foggy doesn't get drunk off beer very quickly, more like he loosens up after a few bottles. He prefers hard liquor for getting smashed, especially an eel at Josie's. 

 

By the time he’s got the spins and Karen is halfway as gone as he is, Foggy's head is cradled in his arms on the sticky bar. He is speaking too loudly, but doesn’t care, and Karen’s hand on his forearm is the only thing keeping him from disappearing up and away into the starless, smoggy sky.

 

"I jus' don't understan. He won't LISTEN, I'm trying to explain where 'm coming from an he won't fuckin listen… He just invades my privacy and treats me like a child. Karen, I KNOW he's tryna help. But he's goin about it allllll wrong and he JUST WON’T listen." Foggy rambles like this for several hours while Karen nurses her glass- he knows she doesn't intend to get as drunk as he does, and part of him appreciates this. By the time she walks him home, he is stumbling, and he thinks he may have finally found the numbness he's been chasing all this time.

 

For good measure, he also cuts that night, and the combination is miraculous. He is too drunk to feel too much pain, just a tiny whisper of a sting and then he is floating, he has finally found relief. He barely thinks about Matt; sweet Matt who feeds him apples, gorgeous Matt whose face captivates him even while it’s twisted in rage, shouting cruel things into his face, lovely Matt who said he didn’t care but whose anger betrays the truth. Foggy doesn’t think about how stubborn Matt is, how there may be no recovering from this for them if he gives up and Matt is too obstinate. He doesn’t think about how much he must have hurt Matt to make him lose his temper- Matt has a very good temper with Foggy, usually. He just thinks about his next drink.

 

Foggy does this for several days. Keeps drunk and texts Karen that he will not be at the office because he's 'not feeling well'. She knows better than to fight him on it, she only expects that he text her a few times a day to check in. Foggy is blissful for a few days. Drink, cut, don’t think about losing the man you very definitely love due to your own pathetic nature. Lather, rinse, repeat.

 

Until he awakes to chaos and light and he finds he is in the back of an ambulance.

 

\---

 

Matt bursts through his apartment door with heavy gasping breaths and collapses on the floor, closing his eyes and trying to rein in his breathing and with it his anger and frustration. He can't believe he yelled at Foggy. Not just yelled, but then he ran away from him. He curses under his breath and stands up, going to get the bottle of vodka in his sparse cabinets; fuck meditation. It’s going to be a long night.

 

He drinks himself into a stupor and recounts the times as a child when he cut. The first time was just after his father died and he found a razor in the bathroom of the orphanage that was his new home. He had just needed something to focus on, to take away the constant rattling of voices in his head, the scratch of cotton against his skin when he laid in bed, and the never ending pain that racked his little body from the loss of his father, the only person he had known and relied on. He had done it on his thigh the first time, hissing at the sting but also sighing at the ability to focus on one thing, and one thing only. He had kept that up until Stick found him. Matt ran a thumb across his thigh, feeling the bumpy scars through his suit pants. When Stick had found him he had been a kid with a mess of emotions and a blood stained razor. He felt like he was still the same little kid in times like this, just a scared child looking for a way to make everything better.

  
Matt doesn't come into work for the next couple of days. Crime runs rampant with Daredevil seemingly gone on holiday, and Matt can’t bring himself to care for once. He almost goes to confession a few times, but then has another drink and rethinks it. On the third day, Matt wakes to his cell phone quite literally yelling at him, and a voice on the other end telling him that Franklin Nelson has been admitted to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas' tumblr- wolfwithateacup.tumblr.com
> 
> Dante's tumblr- comrade-bootyshort.tumblr.com
> 
> Come say hi and talk to us about Daredevil or actually really anything!


	6. Finally, He Thinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Foggy in the hospital, tensions finally come to a head. A head with lots of kissing and hand holding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally! a break from all the angst. our boys finally get to be happy. never fear, the sads will return in the next chapter.

Foggy hates the hospital. He's never been a fan of the clinical smell and how the doctors are so detached. The nurses are all very sweet to him, but Karen is his rock once he's coherent again. He’s got 19 stitches in various places on his arm and all his meals are soups and Jello because his stomach and esophagus have been wrecked. He’s dehydrated and apparently there might be permanent damage to both his liver and his esophagus, and yet Karen doesn’t ask any questions. He knows she’s scared and worried, but she just sits there and hold his hand. 

 

His first thought when he’s lucid again is  where’s Matt? Then he isn't surprised at all. It isn't until Karen finally leaves to go and get shitty coffee from the café downstairs that he sees who he really wants to see.

 

Matt breaks through the 17th floor window with a spectacular crash and marches over to Foggy, who turns his face in Matt’s direction in shock. He opens his mouth, probably to say something condescending, and Matt slaps him. Full force. Slaps him so hard his face turns. Foggy almost sputters out 'what the hell?" but only get so far as "wha-" before he’s gathered into the biggest hug Matt can give. Which is frankly gigantic. Matt holds his best friend into his arms and squeezes him so hard that Foggy almost loses his breath.

 

“I was so scared Foggy, I was so scared..." Matt whimpers into his hair.

 

"M-matt..?" Foggy is taken aback. This is not at all how he imagined seeing his best friend again, but he's so glad that he's still got Matt, he can't bring himself to care. "Matt, I'm fine. I'm okay, I promise. Nothing to worry about." This is a lie and he knows Matt knows. He's sure the blood and vomit can still be smelled on him, and by this time he's come to the conclusion that there is nothing else to call it but a breakdown. Foggy is ashamed of himself. He doesn't want to do this- he can feel his heart racing already, he doesn't want to make Matt angry or upset again but he knows he can't lie here. Foggy's been backed into a corner.

 

Matt still hasn't let go of his best friend and has instead somehow crawled onto the tiny hospital bed, cradling Foggy’s upper half against his chest, tears falling onto Foggy’s hair. 

 

"I’m so sorry bear, I’m so sorry for leaving you. I wanted to help you but you just wouldn't listen, then I get a call from the hospital and it was my father all over again. I just ran here. I didn't even put on shoes, Fogs. I have never been this scared."

 

Foggy can feel tears spring to his eyes and his heart drop into his stomach. 

 

"Oh my god no, hey little duck it's okay, I'm right here and I'm okay. See? I'm alright, Matty." 

 

Foggy twists around to wrap an arm around Matt's waist and bury his face in his friend's shirt. It's obvious Matt's had a bad couple of days too and Foggy feels awful for putting him through this. "Matty, I'm so sorry I scared you. I didn't mean to do this to you."

 

Matt grabs Foggy’s face and lifts it up to his without thinking, pressing his forehead to his friend’s and saying fiercely through his tears,

 

"I love you so much Franklin Nelson, if you were gone, I’d be lost." briefly cursing his voice for breaking, Matt leans in and runs his lips gently across Foggy’s.

 

Foggy feels embers burn in his gut when Matt kisses him. He's pretty glad it isn't butterflies or electricity, actually, because the doctors said he had a restricted diet for a while and he's pretty sure that isn't allowed. He frowns when Matt slips away, so he pushes his hand into Matt's hair and brings their lips crashing back together in a much less gentle kiss. Foggy hasn't felt this complete in God knows how long. Never, he thinks. this is the happiest he's ever been.

 

Matt had put his face and heart on the line when he kissed Foggy, for he knew that if he was wrong about Foggy’s attraction to him, he would get the shit slapped out of him. And even worse than being slapped, he had been in love with Foggy since he walked into their college room and heard the lilt of his voice, and felt the warmth that always accompanies his presence. So when Foggy kisses him again, Matt- hard ass, scary, Daredevil Matt who beats people up both inside and outside of the courtroom- Murdock, melts into it and finally threads his fingers through Foggy’s silky hair, finally lets himself let out a small gasp when Foggy’s tongue runs over his lips.   Finally.

 

Foggy shifts to reach Matt better and feels his chest and stomach burn.  Oh no , he thinks, and pushes away from Matt to rest his head back on his pillow. Between deep breaths, he reaches out and takes Matt's hand. 

 

"Sorry, i'm sorry I just... I really messed up my stomach I guess, just shifted weird. I didn't mean... I did want to keep kissing you." Foggy fumbles for his words. He wishes they didn't have to do this now, with him in a hospital bed sporting multiple stitches in his arm and a ruined stomach and esophagus.

 

Matt runs his thumb soothingly on Foggy’s hand. 

 

“Don't worry about it. you need rest anyways. More kissing later hmm?"

 

"Yes please." Foggy squeezes Matt's hand and grins. "Hey, duck. I'm sorry I scared you. I never meant to do that to you. Have you been okay?"

 

Matt shakes his head fondly, "I’ve been fine. Mostly worried about you, bear. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that."

 

"Hey, no I totally understand. I would have yelled at me too. I was awful to you." Foggy sighs. He doesn't even know how he feels about most things right now, isn't sure what he wants or where to go from here. All he is sure of is he doesn't want Matt to feel bad anymore.

Matt laughs slightly.

 

"You were kind of a dick.." he says teasingly.

 

Foggy pokes Matt in the side and tells him, 

 

"Yeah, well if you would just listen to me in the first place, maybe this would have gone very differently.”

 

Matt almost bristles, but instead bites his tongue, presses closer to Foggy and hums softly. "Okay Fogs, lets just relax for now huh? We have all the time in the world to get into that again. Right now I just was to hold you and keep you safe."

 

Foggy sighs, grateful that they aren't going to do this quite yet. He needs a little bit to sort out his feelings.

 

“I mean we're gonna have to talk this out eventually. Karen will have our heads if we don't. Plus I can't dance around this for much longer. It's been since college, Matty. College. That's years this has been a thing."

 

Matt nods and strokes Foggy’s cheek.

 

"We'll figure it out bear. I promise."

 

"Now." Foggy lifts an eyebrow, "If we can't do that talk, can we do the talk where we discuss how at some point during this we slipped from being best friends with a frankly ridiculous amount of romantic tension to.. this? Can we discuss that please?” Foggy’s a little amazed at how natural it feels to hold Matt’s hand. Honestly, their relationship has always been a little ambiguous, but it was just so  easy to slip from best friends to whatever this is going to be.

 

Matt ducks his head.

 

"Yeah... we can."

 

"Okay, so I'm happy we did that. I've sort of been hoping for that to happen. What about my duck?"

 

Matt almost nods so hard his head falls off. 

 

"I’m glad we did it too. Honestly I think we both needed some sort of catalyst to finally get it out there..."

 

Foggy hums, "Yeah, I think so. I would have kept it to myself even longer, but I think it's been long enough." He's been waiting for years, though he's sure if he told Matt about how he’s been a goner since college, the Catholic guilt for letting it go that long would kill him.

 

"I don't think it’s been long enough, I know it. I feel almost foolish for keeping it to myself." 

 

Matt snuggles against Foggy, unwilling to stop touching him now that he finally can, and Foggy cuddles him back just as fiercely as he can in his state. It’s comforting. They know it isn’t perfect, but hey, it’s them. It’s Matt and Foggy, avocados at law and in love.

 

"Hey, okay. Come down here and kiss me again," he tilts his head, tugging at Matt's shirt collar. "I've been missing out."

  
Matt smiles like the smug bastard he is and leans in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas' tumblr- wolfwithateacup.tumblr.com
> 
> Dante's tumblr- comrade-bootyshort.tumblr.com


	7. Worth It, He Wonders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foggy is released from the hospital and returns home for a talk with Matt, Karen, and Claire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our children may be happy for once! Dante misses the angst. This is why Dante isn't allowed to write on his own. Otherwise everyone would be dead. Cas has saved Foggy's life, thank you Cas.

In just over a week, Foggy is deemed healthy enough to go home, though his diet is still being restricted. He and Matt hold hands the entire cab ride back to his apartment. Foggy knows what's coming. Matt had asked his permission to invite Karen and Claire over and finally have the talk about his health. He's a little relieved that Matt wanted to talk at his apartment; he knows this is an attempt to make him feel more comfortable in his own territory. Foggy still feels anxiety bubble in his wrecked stomach, afraid of the hard talk to come.

 

Matt leads Foggy into his apartment, still holding his hand and rubbing soothing patterns into the shirt covering his back with his free hand. Foggy is nervous as hell, and so is he. Matt knows he probably should have some sessions with a therapist but he himself is nowhere near Foggy’s level. Foggy sits down with a resigned and shaky sigh, and Matt joins him, kissing his forehead. 

 

"I’m right here you know that? If anything gets too bad, just pinch me or something and we'll take a break. Thank you for letting them in though. You’re being incredibly brave." Foggy nods.

 

"I mean thank you, but don't say that. I'm not brave, it's taken me years to get here and I don't even know if I can get through it at this point-" He's cut off by a knock on the door. It's probably for the best, he thinks, since Matt would hate him saying that. Foggy opens the door to both Karen and Claire. "Oh, good, it's convenient that you're both here together." Karen smiles at him and puts a hand around Claire's waist. 

 

"We came together. How are you?" She stops to kiss him on the cheek as he allows them in and follows them to sit down beside Matt once more.

 

Matt snorts quietly at the use of the word convenient. He’s known Karen and Claire are dating for months now. Everytime they arrive somewhere together, Foggy has used the word ‘convenient’; it’s becoming a private joke really. Foggy mumbles something, Karen and Claire mutter back and then they are all on the couch, silent, like the news of a death in the family were about to be announced. It’s a tense, terrible silence.

 

Foggy sighs deeply and decides to break the awful silence. 

 

"So. I mean. This is a thing. I don't know what you guys need me to tell you. I mean the basics, none of it has to do with you guys and no I haven't attempted suicide but I have thought about it a little, and I don't know, what's to be said?" He rambles on, afraid of what will come when he stops filling the silence.

 

Matt hums quietly and puts arm around Foggy. Claire decides to speak up 

 

"Well, we obviously need to get you to a therapist and get you on some medication possibly. I think Karen and Matt will agree. But in the end it’s of course up to you what you want to do; if you want to get better for yourself."

  
  


"I don't know, if we're being honest. I've had this and a few other things," Foggy winces, he wishes he hadn't opened that up for discussion because it'll hurt Matt even more to hear what else he’s been up to. "Since I was just out of high school. I don't know what I want. this has been me, just normal Foggy stuff, all through college. I had a bit of a good time after college but I guess... I dunno it's back again." He sighs and runs his hands over his face. He's already exhausted by this and he doesn't want to take these risks, he wants to just forget about it.

 

Matt speaks up and tightens his hold protectively around Foggy. 

 

"We don't have to get into that now. That's why Claire suggested a therapist. None of us are trained, except for Claire maybe, but you need to talk to a professional about all this. He or she will help you come to terms with yourself, and then it will be easier to open up about stuff to the rest of us."

 

Foggy hears a tiny, sharp voice in the back of his head saying that they don't WANT to hear. They don't want to know the problems, and part of him believes it. He curls tighter in on himself, leaning a bit away from Matt. 

 

"I don't need a therapist," he protests. "I can deal with this on my own and it'll be just like it's gone, I promise. You won't even know it's there."

 

Matt sighs quietly in his head. a thing he’s been doing a lot of lately. Not out of any malice, just to calm himself when Foggy gets like this. Childish and unwilling to help himself. Matt tilts Foggy’s face towards his with a gentle hand. He is met with a little resistance. 

 

"If you don't want to this for yourself, please do it for Karen, Claire and I. We want you to feel better, and to be happy. that's all we want, and we won’t force you into anything."

 

Foggy shakes his head vigorously. 

 

"I can be happy, it can be like normal. I just. I haven't told anybody, how can I tell someone I don't even know?" His heart is jumping in his chest and his voice is thick, like he may cry. "I just..." he releases a shaky sigh. "I'm really fucking scared."

 

Karen is already tearing up with a sniffled, "Foggy" and Claire is holding her ground with her amazing nurse skills. Matt’s heart just drops into his stomach and he gathers his bear into his arms. 

 

"We're all here to protect you and keep you safe, Franklin Nelson. Claire will find the best therapist this town can offer, and I’d even go in with you if you wanted me too."

  
  
  


"Yes, yes please. Come with me." Foggy feels the only thing keeping him together is Matt's strong grip. "I'm really sorry, Karen, Claire," he leans into Matt again "Matty... I know I caused you guys a lot of trouble and I never meant to worry you over me." 

 

Karen bursts out sharply, "Don't you dare. Don't make out like you're just some kind of burden again, Foggy."

 

Matt smiles gently at Karen. He’s glad she’s here. She burns so brightly with positivity it’s almost blinding sometimes. She and Claire make a perfect couple really, he thinks. Karen balances out Claire and vice versa. Claire leans out and puts a hand on Foggy’s arm where he had jumped up and hugged Karen after her outburst; Matt continues to sit, content to let his bear hug out his feelings.

 

Foggy's crying again, not even able to bring himself to be embarrassed at how often he's cried lately. 

 

Karen..." He can't bring himself to say much more through his tears. He wants to make a joke about giving her a raise but his chest is too tight, the way it gets before he cuts most times. He doesn't want to for once, actually. He just wants to fix things. Be open, if he can. Make Karen and Matt and Claire, the best people he's ever met, happy and be good for them.

 

Claire just rolls her eyes and gives up, hugging Foggy too before calling over to Matt,

 

"C’mere Mr. Suicidal Tendencies, you deserve to be in this hugout too." Matt chuckles warmly and gets up to wrap his arms around almost all three of them, pressing his front against Foggy’s back and kissing the top of his head. He knows everything’s going to be okay. Maybe not now, but soon.

 

\---

 

It seems like they hug for an eternity, a wonderful, lovely eternity, before Karen exclaims, "Oh, Claire! Our reservations!" 

 

Claire gasps, "Oh! right," The two women seem regretful to leave the hug, but explain that they have reservations at a restaurant in an hour and they aren't dressed up yet. Foggy shoos them out with kisses on the cheek and well wishes, sighing as he shuts the door behind them.

 

Matt cocks his head and clicks his tongue thoughtfully. 

 

"Well. that went better, and was shorter than I thought."

 

"Yeah, I was expecting to have to bare my whole soul and let you three pick through the wreckage." Foggy returns to Matt and stands close to him, wrapping his arms around his duck's waist.

 

Matt hums softly and wraps around Foggy like an octopus. 

 

"That was never what this was about. They just wanted to come see you, discuss options. Claire’s going to find a therapist and we're going to go sometime next week okay?"

 

Foggy merely nods, knowing Matt can feel it. He searches his mind for the right words, stammering through ums and wells before he finally blurts, 

 

"You aren't just trying to make it go away, right? Do you hate dealing with me like this?" He hopes he knows the answer, just needs to hear Matt say it aloud. He needs another reassurance; hates that he has to ask again. But God he does.

 

“Foggy, you know that isn't the case. I just want you to get better for you. I love you no matter how you are. I’m just worried about you. We all three are." Matt tightens his hold on his bear. "If you were a serial killer, I’d still love you, Foggy, because you’re you. Even if the therapy doesn't really help, even if this problem persists until we die, that's not going to change how I feel about you.”

 

Foggy smiles with relief. His dark thoughts are effectively crushed by Matt’s words, and he’s again only happy and at ease.

 

"I love you, God I love you so much." He leans forward and kisses Matt, a grin still faintly gracing his lips. The second he pulls back, he once again moves forward to recapture Matt's mouth. Foggy can never get enough of kissing Matt, he thinks. It feels like waves crashing over him, washing him clean and allowing him to breathe easier than he ever has before.

 

Matt quietly moans and deepens the kiss, pressing into Foggy. He loves kissing foggy, it feels like coming home. It reminds him of the warmth of the candles in church, the feel of an iced drink on a hot day. Cleansing and refreshing. He could get addicted to it.

 

Foggy lowers his hands to Matt's hips and tugs, closing any distance between them. He hums lightly into Matt's mouth, pulling back only enough to bite Matt's lip. He can feel himself relaxing, loving the feeling of Matt against him. Foggy's hands roam, running over thin fabric and squeezing lightly in places. He adores Matt's body, loves being with him.

 

Matt lets out a choked out moan and barely restrains himself from rutting against Foggy like a horny teenager in a heated makeout session. Which admittedly he has done before but Foggy is making it ridiculously hard not to lose control.

 

Foggy chuckles, "Is now a good or bad time?" He's leaving it up to Matt to decide if they keep going, this time. He just feels happy enough being able to touch his duck.

 

Matt almost dies when he says, "I think we should wait, hmm? I haven't even taken you out on a date yet, which is a travesty on my part."

 

"You know, I don't have any plans." Foggy teases. "We could split the cost. Us poor lawyers have got to stick together." He leans forward to kiss Matt's neck and whisper into his ear, "And you know i'm the type to put out on the first date, if you're up for it."

 

Matt’s in hell. He’s died and this is the end. Foggy can’t have any idea that his greatest weakness is whispering in his ears. He steels himself with a staggering amount of control. 

 

"I think not tonight. This night has been rough on you. You probably need a rest. But I promise, soon. Friday of next week maybe?”

 

Foggy smiles. "You're sweet. We'll wait. I do need to rest, but first I'm damn hungry. Hope you're still up for dinner, because I think pizza and cheesy movies are calling to me."

 

Matt leans in and nips Foggy’s lip quickly.

 

"Perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas' tumblr- wolfwithateacup.tumblr.com  
> Dante's tumblr- comrade-bootyshort.tumblr.com


	8. Loved, He Considers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are looking up for our avocados as they share a dinner and then return to Matt's apartment for the long awaited sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was all sweet and fluff/smut, but don't forget not everything is resolved yet. Dante is laughing maniacally in the distance. This chapter contains cuteness and blowjobs, but also implied/referenced past self harm.

The next few days fly, with Foggy quickly healing and Matt being a ridiculously affectionate mother hen. With minimal nagging Matty’s convinced to move the date forward a week, and that Friday finds them enjoying ambiguously ethnic food at a restaurant only a few blocks away. Foggy steals bites of Matt's food and flirts almost viciously, laughing when he makes Matt blush.

 

“Foggy...." Matt ducks his head as his.. friend? Boyfriend? Sends another loud, and frankly terrible pick up line his way. Matt knows he’s blushing as red as his Daredevil suit, but the night is going so well, and the two of them haven't laughed so hard in months. It feels lovely to have some semblance of normalcy back in their lives

 

"Yeaah, Matty?" Foggy says through a wide grin. He's got his leg brushing Matt's every few moments and he knows that Matt can feel it much stronger than he can. "You wanna get dessert, or you wanna get out of here?" He winks ridiculously and tells Matt, "I just winked at you, and it was sexy as fuck. Just so you know exactly how sexy it was."

 

“It’s not nice to lie to a blind man. Go to confession. I am Father Mathew and I sentence thee!" Matt swings his arm dramatically and Foggy bursts out laughing. The only sentencing Matt has done is sentence Foggy to tears really, and Matt smiles fondly as his friend makes a scene in the restaurant.

 

After getting out of there, i.e. getting forcibly removed from the premises, the two are stumbling to Matt’s apartment, laughing and love drunk. Foggy stops to kiss Matt every few steps, laughing at Matt's sighs. 

 

"Come on, this is my penance! Being forced to stay longer on the street with you instead of going back to the apartment to do other types of stuff," here he pauses to run his fingertips lightly down Matt's chest and stomach to rest feather light on his belt buckle, "But then again, that DOES also punish you... hmm. I bet I could find another way to pay you back for all this teasing."

 

Matt gapes at foggy as a flash of heat rolls down his spine.

 

"How in the world have I BEEN TEASING YOU?”

 

Foggy laughs, "Look at you! you're teasing me by just existing. You're gorgeous..." This last bit he leans forward to whisper into Matt's ear. "But I guess I've done some teasing myself, huh? I can repay you for your trouble if you like?"

 

Matt decides with a shudder that he can let go of his patience for one night, which leads to him growling lowly and dragging Foggy down the street to his apartment.

 

Chuckling madly, Foggy allows himself to be pulled along easily. Once they reach the stairs, he  stops Matt in the stairwell and pushes him against the wall for a deep kiss before lightly kissing his nose and taking the stairs two at a time.

 

Matt leans against the wall for support and breathes out a soft curse. Foggy is going to be the death of him, he swears it. He follows his partner up the stairs and sheds his light jacket. 

 

"So, Mr. Nelson, what can you repay me with, hmm?"

 

With a smirk, Foggy closes the distance between Matt and himself. He closes the door with one hand without taking his eyes off of Matt, and he runs his hands along the leather of Matt's belt. 

 

"I had a plan in mind... involving my mouth? If that sounds good to you, of course."

 

“Your mouth  gets you into so much trouble. Someday you’re not going to be able to flirt yourself out of it.." Matt swings Foggy around and in one smooth movement has him with his back pressing against the door.

 

Foggy bites his lip. "Yeah, it might. I'm banking on what I can do with that mouth getting me out of said trouble."

 

Matt holds his hands up with a smirk.

 

"Why don't you show me, bear?”

 

Foggy hums and drops to his knees, bringing his hands up to grip Matt's hips. "It would be my pleasure." He swiftly undoes the belt, and once he reaches the button of Matt's pants he leans forward and neatly undoes it with his teeth. It's only ever been a party trick up till now but damn is he glad he's got that up his sleeve. The zipper proves a bit more tricky but he gets it with minimal awkwardness, and once he's got it down most of the way he abandons it and starts to tug at Matt's pants.

 

Matt panics a bit. He hates it when people see his thighs and he unconsciously moves back a step. Foggy notices, and his hands leave the hem of Matt's pants and go down to rub comfortingly around the backs of his thighs. 

 

"Hey, everything okay? Is this alright?"

 

Humming, Matt strokes Foggy’s hair as a comfort and grounds himself. 

 

“..Fogs, I just.. I don't like people seeing my scars."

 

Foggy nods.

 

"Hey, I promise they don't change anything. That'd be pretty hypocritical of me if they did. I really admire your strength and you know those are just reminders of how hard it was and how you made it through to me?" He presses a soft kiss to Matt's bare hip. Matt shakes his head softly. 

 

“Shame you don't listen to your own pep talks." He runs a hand down to Foggy’s face and strokes his cheek.

 

Foggy sighs softly, "It's easier to be nice to you because I love you and I don't live in your head. Now babe, is this okay? Is it alright for me to see them? You can tell me to stop if you get uncomfortable with it okay?"

 

“Well my hard on’s gone so that's a factor," Matt chuckles, and Foggy’s face wrinkles in determination.

 

“We'll see about that," Foggy says and proceeds to press open mouthed kisses along Matt's covered cock. He inches the waistband down, hooking his fingers into Matt's quality silk underwear. Foggy kisses every new centimeter of skin that is revealed, sometimes biting gently, barely more than a scrape of teeth, at the skin instead. 

 

"God," he breathes hot on Matt's dick, "God I bet you taste amazing. I can almost taste you already, it's so amazing Matty, GOD you're hot."

 

“Blasphemy..." Matt manages to whimper out. His cock jerks at Foggy’s ministrations and he barely holds back a moan.

 

Foggy presses his lips to Matt's now barely covered cock and hums in response. 

 

"I told you my mouth was bad, Mr. Murdock." He gives in and tugs one final time, allowing Matt's pants and boxers to puddle on the floor.

 

Matt inhales sharply and his hips stutter as the heat encasing his cock is now replaced by cold air. God it feels good. 

 

"Please, foggy.."

 

Foggy presses a quick kiss to the pink, twisted scars on each of Matt's upper thighs before breathing hot air so close to Matt's hard cock that he's nearly touching it, but all the contact he gets is Foggy's breath. Matt lets out a breathy moan and vainly tries to tug Foggy closer.

 

"Fogs, please... I’ve been wanting this since college dammit." Foggy smiles and replies smugly, 

 

"And I've wanted to hear you beg since college too." He then obliges Matt and wraps his lips around the head of Matt's dick and plays his tongue over the sensitive flesh, not done teasing.

Matt groans and thrusts his hips forward minutely.

 

"Foggy," he breathes out, "Please, stop teasing me..."

 

Foggy hums around the head of Matt's dick and decides that the poor man has suffered enough. Slowly, he sinks down until he feels Matt's cock brush the back of his throat. Foggy swallows around him and closes his eyes, attempting to keep his throat relaxed. He wants to keep going and take all of Matt's cock if he can.

 

“F-fuck Foggy, God you’re amazing please.." Matt reaches down and loosely grabs a fistul of Foggy’s hair, moaning long and loud.

 

Foggy reaches the base of Matt's dick and takes a minute to mentally congratulate himself. He slides his tongue up along the sensitive skin before grasping Matt's hips in a way that he hopes will leave bruises and beginning to bob up and down the length of his cock, relishing every noise he draws from Matt.

 

Matt is once again, in hell. The sounds Foggy is unintentionally making, the feel of his tongue sliding on his cock is killing him slowly. He can feel himself about to cum but can only groan out an aborted attempt at Foggy’s name before cumming into his mouth with a shout, clutching the hair in his fist more tightly.

 

Foggy moans when Matt's grip on his hair tightens and he swallows, working Matt through his orgasm before pulling away, his swollen lips turned upward in a satisfied grin. Foggy's pants are too tight when he stands, but he ignores it in favor of stroking the hair of a very dazed Matt Murdock.

 

If Matt could see, his vision would be blurred; he’s sure of it. That orgasm was the strongest he’s ever experienced and he holds onto Foggy like a lifeline, murmuring nonsensical things and placing messy kisses up and down his neck

 

Foggy chuckles to himself, leading Matt back to the bedroom and removing the minimum amount of clothing before laying down beside him. He has a feeling he may have just effectively ended the night by tiring Matt out but he can't even bring himself to be disappointed, because currently Matt's face is open and he keeps smiling hazily in Foggy's direction and he hasn't taken his hands off Foggy yet.

 

Matt has latched onto Foggy like an octopus, and he lets himself settle down and get his strength back before flipping Foggy onto his back and pinning his wrists to the bed. 

 

"So little love, would you like to tell the devil your desires?"

 

Foggy gasps, and there's a moment where that line is genuinely hot before he processes it and begins to laugh. 

 

"Oh god," he manages between laughs, "Okay, okay Matt I definitely want to do this but holy shit, that line... That just sounded like we were in a porno, oh Lord..."

 

Matt arches an eyebrow and smirks.

 

"C’mon I thought that was good."

 

"Yeah, I mean it could have been worse. I just suggest you stop with the line babe, you already have me under you and more than willing." Foggy arches his hips to press his painfully hard cock against Matt's thigh and he releases a small sigh at the contact.

 

Matt laughs quietly and breathes out an agreement with a dorky smirk. 

 

"Well then let me get to it, sir." matt says, grinning like an asshole. Foggy’s heart rate picks up when he tries that title, so he files that one away for later. Matt slides down Foggy’s body with a lithe grace that a blind man should not ever possess. He mouths over Foggy’s crotch and licks over the hard bulge there.

  
Foggy bites his lip but is still not able to hold back a low moan. His hips jerk involuntarily and he finds himself muttering incomprehensible apologies. He takes a few deep breaths to maintain his sanity and begins to wonder if he'll make it out of this alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas' tumblr- wolfwithateacup.tumblr.com
> 
> Dante's tumblr- comrade-bootyshort.tumblr.com
> 
> come give us a holler!


	9. Loved, He Contemplates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foggy gets the therapy and cuddles he needs and deserves, with Matt to help him along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, stuff got hella crazy. Cas is starting their new job and Dante is being supportive while also working. 
> 
> (We also inserted ourselves into the story. Oops.)

Foggy wakes to a stark naked Matt Murdock wrapped around him like a squid. He stretches and turns his head to nudge at Matt's cheek with his nose. It's to no avail, Matt is firmly asleep. Foggy gives a devilish grin and presses an open mouthed kiss to his neck, followed by another. He lets his teeth graze over the sensitive skin, then kisses the spot.

Matt responds with a groan and rolls over onto Foggy, pillowing his head on Foggy’s shoulder with a yawn.

 

"No more neck kissesssssss... I’ve already got thirty something hickies scattered across my neck. Any more would be overkill."

 

Foggy smiles and kisses his cheek. 

 

"Then give me those lips, Matty."

 

Matt blushes but leans his head up and kisses Foggy leisurely. Foggy doesn't care that Matt's laying directly on his arm, he just uses the one he has left to run his fingers through Matt's ridiculous gravity-defying bedhead. He lingers on the next kiss, the feeling of being close to Matt intoxicating him. Foggy pecks Matt once, twice, then the third kiss is of a different nature. It's slow and deep and full of love and something else. It's purely them.

 

Matt sighs and melts into the kisses. After being kept from affection for so long, the slightest hint of love sends him into a cuddly spiral. But with Foggy, the affection is something else entirely, it’s a sense of home, a sense of belonging. It’s much deeper than just being snuggly.

 

Foggy kisses Matt and allows himself to smile against his lips. He can feel the comfort radiating off Matt, and he rubs his nose against Matt's, laughing. He knows he's being cheesy. He simply doesn't care.

 

Matt chuckles, "How’d you sleep, love?"

 

Foggy hums and blinks sleepily. 

 

"Slept really well babe, how about you?" He leans down to kiss Matt's forehead fondly.

 

Matt hums happily, “I slept well, you sweet bear."

 

"Good. I bet you did, darling. Hungry?" Foggy yawns.

 

Matt kisses Foggy’s nose. Foggy’s nose scrunches in a way that makes it very obvious why he was given the nickname bear. He’s practically a cub.

 

"Yeah, ill go make pancakes?”

 

Foggy's eyebrows go up a mile.

 

"Absolutely not. After the treatment I received last night, breakfast is the least I can do to return the favor."

 

Matt nuzzles Foggy’s neck.

 

”Mmmmm, thank you bear. I’ll come keep you company. Maybe make us some mimosas?"

 

Laughing, Foggy pushes himself upright. "Since when do you have champagne in this apartment? I wanna know how you afford that plus silk underwear, which by the way was really hot, and," here Foggy runs his hands over the sheets, "silk sheets, when I can barely afford pizza once a week."

 

"I may or may not have bought it before we went on our first date." Matt rubs the back of his neck self consciously, "also the people down at the shop where I buy my sheets always seem to undercharge me for them. I’m not about to complain."

 

Foggy rolls his eyes and tells Matt, "God, you're cute." He leans over to kiss Matt's temple. "Come on, I'll cook in just an apron. Too bad you can't see that sight, babe, because it's really something."

 

Matt rolls out of bed lithely.

 

“Making fun of a blind man.. surely that's a sin?" He pads into the kitchen, not caring about his nakedness.

 

Foggy gazes after him for a moment with a dumb smile on his face before following. 

 

"Yeah, yeah, I'll confess my sins later. Now, where's your apron?"

 

Matt points to where it is, hanging haphazardly over a drawer handle. It’s purple and it says ‘stud’ above what looks like 5th grade slideshow clipart of a muffin. It’s fucking magnificent. Foggy ties it on and takes a second to laugh to himself. Meanwhile Matt takes a seat at the kitchen counter and smiles warmly. 

 

“I love your pancakes."

 

"That's because they're made with love, babe." Foggy laughs, measuring flour.

 

Matt grins fondly. “You’re so cute, you know that?"

 

"Oh babe. You're cuter. My wounded duck." Foggy whisks away briskly at the mix he’s measured. "So what about those mimosas? I could use some 11 am alcohol."

 

"Both ingredients are in the refrigerator, you know where the good glasses are love"

 

Foggy hums and sashays over to the fridge. "Do you want more orange juice or more champagne? Because I'm just gonna use the orange juice for a little bit of color." he jokes.

 

“Do the same with mine, please,” Matt chirps from the counter.

 

Foggy laughs happily. "Whatever you want, babe." He mixes up two glasses of champagne with a little orange juice and sets one in front of Matt, leaning against the counter opposite him and sipping from his own fancy glass. "This is just perfect, Matty."

 

“Mmm, it feels nice doesn't it?" Matt takes a sip and hums happily, reaching across the counter to lace his fingers with Foggy’s.

 

Foggy squeezes Matt's hand.

 

"One sec babe, gotta work on the pancakes." He sets his glass down and proceeds to flip and finish the pancakes. He chooses the nicest plates Matt has and stacks several pancakes. "Syrup or peanut butter, Matty?"

 

“I’m feeling reckless bear. Both."

 

"Ooooh, a real rule-breaker. Rebellion is sexy, you know." Foggy grins and does as Matt asks, setting a pile of piping hot pancakes in front of him before starting in on his own mountain.

 

Matt laughs warmly and kisses Foggy across the counter "I love you, you know." he then digs into his own stack of pancakes, not really aware of the words that came out of his mouth.

 

Foggy pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth. They’ve said it before but somehow this setting, with it’s domesticity, means so much more than when Foggy was lying in a hospital bed or near tears from anxiety. This is easy, this is  real, and it feels like home. Foggy breaks into a huge grin and hauling Matt back across the counter to kiss him deeply. 

 

"I love you too. You're dumb and sweet and I love you."

 

The taste of syrup on Foggy’s lips is almost as sweet as his actual lips. Just almost. Matt pulls back and smiles brightly. 

 

“It’s going to be a good day today. I can already tell,” he informs Foggy.

 

Foggy nods. "You know what I wanna do today? It may not be the happiest thing but it'll be positive and a good way to spend a great day."

 

Matt cocks his head "What would you like to do, bear?"

 

Foggy grabs Matt's hand again. "I wanna talk to you guys about everything. It's just been really weighing on me and on us, and I feel strong today, so do you think we can do that? I don't wanna make today sad, but I really just... I don't want it hanging over us anymore. As good as this is I don’t think it’s possible to completely relax until I get that over with."

 

Matt nods "I think that’ll be good. Claire already scheduled an appointment with the therapist but I can always pull some strings and get it moved to today."

 

"Please? And can you please come, duck?"

 

“I already promised you I would come. I’m not backing out on that promise now."

 

Foggy smiles and squeezes Matt's hand. 

 

"You're perfect."

 

\---

 

A few hours pass and 4 p.m. finds Matt and Foggy sitting in overstuffed chairs in an office, across a dark wooden desk from a very small and well dressed therapist with large glasses and an odd accent that comes out on the vowels. Foggy is fiddling with one of the many colorful stim toys they have lined up on their desk, and his eyes are fixed on a small stuffed alligator sticking out of a bin of toys in the corner. He knows he’s ready to get everything out there, but it’s harder than he anticipated telling this person all his problems.

 

“I am Dr. Morgenstern, Foggy. You may call me Cas. I understand it may be hard for you to talk to a complete stranger, so here is a  little about myself.” The therapist smoothes their long, silver hair down and neatly folds their hands, covered in rings, on the desk. “I graduated from Stanford, I have a partner, Dante, who I married twenty five years ago, and we have three cats and a dog. I have tea bags in my desk drawers and I’m not wearing shoes right now.” 

 

Foggy and Matt laugh, and Foggy feels himself relax a little. His hand is in Matt’s loosely, and he feels Matt give him a squeeze. 

 

“So, would you two like to tell me a little about yourselves?” Cas offers, smiling in a careful but genuine way. 

 

Matt senses that Foggy is hesitant, so he clears his throat and tells Dr. Morgenstern,

 

“I’m Matt, and I’m Foggy’s... boyfriend,” he pauses and feels Foggy lean towards him minutely. This is the first time they’ve declared it out loud; although it had become very clear when Foggy responded to his Aunt’s emails about ‘settling down’ and ‘avoiding the bachelor lifestyle’ with a short message amounting to, ‘I’m off the market, Aunt Gayle, nothing to worry about. Someone’s making an honest man of your nephew.’ and Matt was caught in the act of attempting and failing to make a post on his abandoned twitter (Foggy had convinced him he needed at least one social media account) about ‘waking up to your SO and pancakes’ being heaven. “I’m one of three currently employed at Nelson and Murdock, graduated from Columbia, and,” he follows in the path of Dr. Morgenstern and ends on a humorous note, “I’m not 100% sure my underwear isn’t backwards.”

 

Foggy rolls his eyes sighs. 

 

“Foggy Nelson, also currently employed at Nelson and Murdock. Also graduated from Columbia. I’m the reason we’re here, and I…” He racks his brain for a funny ending statement and to his disappointment he’s off his game today. He finishes lamely with, “I read all the Harry Potter books 12 times each.”

 

Matt snorts and bumps his knee against Foggy’s. 

 

“Well Foggy, Matt, it’s nice to meet you both. Now to quote a movie about a feminist icon, let’s get down to business. Foggy,” they address him directly this time, “What’s got you in a muddle?”

 

“I just…” Foggy shrugs helplessly, “Feel too much? I don’t know. This whole thing started to be a problem in college. All my friends were having their own problems, my family was busy taking care of my mom in the hospital, and Matt was being the dork he is and always studying. I just. I couldn’t dump everything on anyone else, so I just found a way to deal with all that excess emotion by myself. And I know it wasn’t by any means a healthy coping mechanism, like in what universe is cutting healthy, but I mean I needed a way to release all that damn emotion. At one point I was cutting every night.” He feels Matt stiffen slightly beside him, but he keeps going. Keeps plowing through. “I never had super healthy eating habits either, but skyrocketing anxiety levels don’t tend to help. And I just realized that it worked for me. I’d eat and eat and eat for a few days, just completely pig out, and then take a bunch of laxatives and stop eating for like three days straight. And apparently I’m a huge poster child for replacing food with alcohol, because most of the times I’ve missed meals have been because I’ve been getting shitfaced for the numbness factor.”

 

Dr. Morgenstern hums in response and replies, “Well we’ll definitely have to talk more about your eating habits and alcohol problem, but let’s start with your self harm. That’s pretty pressing.”

 

Foggy nods and sighs deeply.

 

“I mean, it started with a razor from a pencil sharpener during finals. I was browsing the internet for stress relief techniques, and somehow got to the dark part of the internet. I knew it was a terrible idea, but nothing else helped. So i tried it and it was so fucking good, like instant relief. And it spiraled from there. I mostly do it when I feel too much-”

 

Dr. Morgenstern holds up a hand, “What do you mean, ‘feel too much’?” 

 

“Well, I just…” Foggy searches for words, “I don’t know, sometimes it just gets too much. I feel everything and I feel it so strongly, I can’t contain it in my skin without exploding. It has to go somewhere. I just… let some of it out with cutting.” He feels Matt beside him, leaning to bring himself closer to Foggy. The contact is comforting, and even though he doesn’t want to be here, he knows Matt is there and so of course everything is going to be okay.

  
  


\---

 

The session goes on for about an hour longer, just Foggy essentially ripping apart his thought process and Dr. Morgenstern going through and polishing the bits off, making notes on them. In the end, all he gets is a feeling of being exhausted even though he sat all hour, and an appointment for the next week at the same time.

 

Foggy declines the offer of dinner with Claire and Karen in favor of going home with Matt again, stopping to pick up sandwiches on the way. The two of them immediately change into pajama pants and t shirts, and the night finds them on the couch watching House, Foggy narrating and making jokes as usual. Matt tells Foggy how proud he is countless times and while Fogs rolls his eyes and makes self deprecating jokes, he can’t help but be pleased. 

 

“Hey, Matty.”

 

“Yeah, bear?”

 

“I love you, and I’m so glad we did this. But one thing.”

 

“Mhmm?”

 

“Shut up and kiss me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas' tumblr- wolfwithateacup.tumblr.com
> 
> Dante's tumblr- comrade-bootyahort.tumblr.com


	10. Loved, He Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our avocados seem to finally be happy together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the huge delay, guys! life happened. But here you are, the final chapter of SiW, with all your favorite things- smut, angst, more smut.......
> 
> thank you guys for reading along, it's been quite a journey. feel free to give suggestions for what we should write next in the comments.
> 
> we both thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your support and love.

It’s a while until Foggy has another bad night. He and Matt kiss a lot, there’s actually clients at the firm, and things are good. But it’s inevitable that sometime Foggy’s gotta have another bad night. They’re just lucky it happens on one of the many night Matt spends at Foggy’s apartment.

 

They’ve been spending nearly every night together, their clothing all mixed up in each other’s closets and ‘home’ being the word for both apartments. Tonight, they’re at Foggy’s, curled up in his too-small bed, when Foggy finds his head becoming dark.

 

Matt lays beside him, an arm over his waist, wearing Foggy’s sweatpants and nothing else, and Foggy lays awake. He’d had more than a few beers earlier with his boyfriend, and he feels the slowed down, slightly muffled thoughts begin to once again invade his thoughts.

 

The pressure of Matt’s arm burns against his bare skin suddenly, seems unbearable and oppressive and he slowly shimmies out from under the limb, careful not to wake Matt. He knows his boyfriend is a light sleeper, and he tiptoes to the kitchen with utmost caution. 

 

Foggy knows he’s not doing the right thing when he retrieves a bottle of gin, knows he should go and wake Matt and talk to him, but when he returns to his doorway he sees Matt sleeping so peacefully for once, undisturbed by nightmares or guilt, and he can’t bring himself to take the 5 or 6 extra steps and wake him. 

 

It doesn’t matter,  taunts the voice in his head.  Nothing will matter eventually, soon enough you’ll fuck up and you’ll lose him. He’ll get tired. He’ll decide you’re too much work. Why not just speed up that process just a little? Get it over with, for everyone’s good.

 

Foggy takes a gulp from the bottle of gin and squeezes his eyes shut.  Fuck, he thinks. He feels like shit, every part of him aches and he just wants to not think. He doesn’t want these stinging thoughts, he just wants euphoric numbness. He wants to forget.

 

Just then, Matt turns over in Foggy’s bed and the light coming through the window hits his face. He looks like Matt, the guy Foggy’s never kept anything that matters from, the person Foggy trusts more than anyone else. He looks open, and he looks like the love of Foggy’s life. In his chest, Foggy feels a tight pressure. He groans and runs his hand over his face, knowing he’s gonna hate himself at least a little for what he’s about to do, but he’ll hate himself even more if he doesn’t talk to Matt. Foggy takes a few shaky steps forward and sits on the side of the bed beside Matt, the bottle hanging loosely from his fist. 

 

“Matt?” He whispers, placing a hand on Matt’s thigh. 

 

“Mmm?” Matt blinks blearily and gazes up at Foggy.

 

“Hey, sorry to wake you, babe. But, I just… I guess I need you right now.” Matt immediately starts up and uses one hand to brace himself, the other to rub circles on Foggy’s thigh. 

 

“Hey, what’s up? What’s wrong? Foggy?”

 

Foggy sighs, “Hey, everything’s fine. Just a bit of a bad night.”

 

Matt’s forehead creases. 

 

“Have you been drinking, Fogs? I smell alcohol.”

 

“I mean, not a lot. Sip or two of gin. I didn’t get too far before I woke you.”

 

Matt nods.

 

“Okay, good. What’s going on? Here, come here.” Matt beckons for Foggy to join him in bed.

 

Foggy places the bottle on the floor and allows Matt to curl around him, warming his core. 

 

“I’m right here, bear. It’s gonna be fine.”

 

\---

 

It’s past noon when Matt and Foggy wake up again, and the sun is shining on the two of them.

 

“Hey there, duck.” Foggy kisses Matt’s forehead.

 

“Sleep well?” Matty props himself up on one elbow, facing Foggy.

 

“As well as I could with you stealing the covers all night, you asshole.”

 

Matt laughs in response and leans forward to press kisses on any part of Foggy’s skin he can reach.

 

“Not my fault, I was asleep. You’re a lawyer, you should know well enough I can’t be held accountable for things I did while I was asleep.”

 

“Don’t you spew that lawyer bullshit at me, Murdock. You’re guilty as charged and your punishment is… Kisses!”

 

“Oh no, anything but that!” Matt laughs hysterically as Foggy swings a leg over him and pins him, pressing quick kisses down his cheek and over his nose before deciding to attack his neck in the same fashion.

 

Matt moans slightly and arches his back into Foggy’s warm body. 

“Foggy… that feels really good…” Foggy smirks into his partner’s neck and sucks on the skin beneath his lips before biting lightly on the spot behind Matt’s ear. This draws a long groan from Matt and he writhes beneath Foggy, eventually thrusting against his thigh. 

 

Foggy smiles when he feels Matt half hard under his thigh. 

 

“Does it, babydoll? Why don’t you tell me how it feels?” 

 

“God, Foggy it feels like lightning is crackling down my skin, like the most precious holy fire is in my veins..”

 

Foggy chuckles “Way to be poetic there Matty.” 

 

Matt smirks in response and rolls his hips again, by this time fully hard, which makes Foggy grin down at him. He decides to move his onslaught of kisses south, and presses open mouthed kisses all the way down his boyfriend’s scarred chest. 

 

\---

 

Foggy smiles softly as the sun went down on their day together.  He is curled up with Matt on the sofa, his boyfriend sleeping soundly on his chest, a little bit of drool coming out of his mouth as the tv murmurs in the background.

  
‘This. This right here is home.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas' tumblr- wolfwithateacup.tumblr.com
> 
> Dante's tumblr- comrade-bootyshort.tumblr.com


End file.
